Skin Against Steel
by Zulu the Vampire Slayer
Summary: It's been ten years since the boy with the funny hat and the Ivysaur tore down Team Rocket and sent them free.  Ten years later, Rocket is back-and out for their blood.
1. Prologue: Zacchaeus

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pokemon. I probably don't own my writing style either.

**Claim:** I want some muffins.

**Note: **I will be editing chapters if spelling, grammar, and similar mistakes are noted. If a review points out a problem that seems to not exist, it's probably been edited.

* * *

Skin meets cold steel, cold, sharp steel that pierces the heart and the soul. It traces its path down the sea of flesh and trails up until it meets bone, the shield protecting the soul. The steel breaks it trail and folds away, hidden until needed again.

Blood pours like a sticky juice from the line, a juice that drives some mad and others to their deaths, a juice that strengthens the body but murders the soul. I lap at it like an animal, a soulless beast with no regards for anyone but itself. Yes, that's right. I'm an animal, not human. Humanity leaked away from me long ago, like juice of death leaking from my arm and spilling from my mouth. The taste of the blood makes me want to rip out my tongue and stab it with a fork, but I do it every year. It's a tradition of sorts, a tradition of self-torture and destruction.

I examine my arm, hatred brewing from every drop of blood that lands on the dirt. I count the scars, like I do every year; eight, nine, ten, each representing a year. It's hard for me to believe that it's been a decade, but it has. My life is gone, seeping through the lines both new and healed.

I hear a loud boom. I look up from my bloody drink and see a series of flashes and bangs in the sky I recognize as fireworks dancing across the winter sky. That's how they look at today; the normal ones. A day to celebrate the start of a new year. _What year is it again? _I silently ask myself. Not like real years matter anymore to me; the only calendar I use anymore is the moon; the only dating system years since I fled, since that kid with the funny hat tore through them.

I guess I could be referred to as a nomad; I never take residence for longer than a week anywhere. That is, besides the cave.

The cave is, if anything, the only place I can call home. I've never seen it in the warmth; I only stay here during the winter, when the moss is replaced with icicles and frost. The blanket of snow that coats the ground is a better bed than any mattress of cotton will ever be; the walls keep out the cold better than any brick of plaster. And the best part; it's nearly impossible to get to. At least, impossible to untrained climbers.

I may have had a real home once; at least, what the common man thinks is a real home. Four trapping walls of compacted clay, doors carved out of dead trees, power-hungry, unnatural lights, little suns hanging from a huge square of who-know-what. I may have had family, maybe even a different name. What was my real name? It's been so long I've forgotten what it was. "Zacchaeus." The name rolls off my tongue like a bitter melon. Who know how it evolved, but the name stuck back at training. I didn't have a clue what it meant or where it came from, but it seemed to fit perfectly into place.

A reassuring electric purr sounds from behind me. I turn around only to be covered in the warm furry face of my Luxray. Despite my inability to breathe through my nose, I grin. Unfortunately, this had the added side effect of me swallowing some of his navy hairs. I leap back and spit out most of the hairs, coughing the rest out before smiling faintly.

Luxray examines me curiously before curiously tipping his head to his side, as if to ask, _What happened?_

I cough out a few more hairs. "It's fine, buddy. Just…warn me before you do that next time, 'k?

But Luxray's golden X-ray eyes aren't focused on me anymore. He snarls at something behind me and courses electricity through his thick fur.

The reaction is immediate. My knife is unfolded and soaring through the air within seconds. Luxray has never failed me before: if he's snarling, something is definitely wrong.

Cold steel makes contact with skull with seconds. The silhouette crumples to the floor and lays there, limp.

I calmly stride over to the corpse and remove my jackknife from his cranium before examining his limp body. The darkness of the cave makes it hard to see him in his all-black outfit, but one thing stands out on his limp cadaver. A big, neon red R plastered across the front of his skintight suit.

_Fuck._ They've found me.

* * *

**Yes, it's another fic by the me. For the Streets fans...don't expect much soon. For Coal fans, expect a chapter soon.**

**Anyway, I do happen to be accepting some OCs. Please excuse a lack of clarity on the form; there are a lot of secrets that cannot be revealed.**

**Name: This is simple.  
**

**Age: Once again, simple. 15-18.**

**Gender:...do I need to elaborate?**

**Class: There are two classes: Wanderers and Home-stayers. Wanderers have been flying solo around the world since training was interrupted. Home-Stayers have returned to their childhood homes and pushed their training time out of mind. I'm taking 3 more Homestayers, Wadnderers are full.  
**

**Appearance: Basic. Give me detail on hair/eyes/body-type/skin color/any other physical characteristics. I am a harsh judge on overbeautification; tread carefully. ALSO: The Wanderers most likely won't be very cleanly. Just sayin'. I'm OK with weirdo hair colors, so go crazy. No rainbows or changing colors of either eyes nor hair please, unless dyed.  
**

**Clothing: Simple. Nothing too revealing or impractical for Wanderers, go wild with the Homestayers.**

**Personality: KEEP THIS IN MIND: The Wanderers have gone through a severe amount of emotionally threatening experiences and clearly remember them. They won't be super happy-go-lucky. Home-stayers don't keep it in mind, so go wild there. At least five sentences; give me stuff to work with. **

**History: THIS IS IMPORTANT. Give me pre-training stuff: where they lived etc. Also, give me post-training: for home-stayers: how did they get home, when did they stop thinking about it, what did they do afterwards...Wanderers: Where did they go, what have they been doing, have they had any encounters with the Rockets...**

**Pokemon: First off: no Eevee/loutions, no Pseudo-legendaries for homestayers (this includes the Riolu family), no legendaries, no shinies. Also; the homestayers will most likely have few more Pokemon than family pets; they are just teenagers after all. Wanderers, go crazy with everything besides the excluded. 6 maximum, 3 for homestayers.**

**Seeya next chapter **

**Zulu  
**


	2. Chapter 1: Sol

**A/N: I'm still accepting three Homestayer spots.**

**Also, the rest of the story will be in past tense: I like past tense better. Present tense just worked best for paragraph 1.**

**Finally: I have a question for the readers: at this point, I have two options. Should I keep it T and go for the violence copout (I have a plan for this), or should I keep the violence and ratchet it up to M? Please give me feedback.  
**

"…are you sure? "

"That's what he said, and I'm certain he's not lying."

"You have too much trust in him, Xavier. He's almost as paranoid as Pharos: Some innocent climber probably came to his cave and he hallucinated. This is the third time in six months."

"I don't think he's lying this time, Conor. This time, it's for real."

"Stop calling me that! …How did you get this number, anyway?"

"Phonebook. You've chosen a quite unique name combination, Co-sorry, _Damien._"

"Whatever. I'll come, but if it's another false alarm…"

"It won't be. Trust me. I'll see you there."

"Bye. Wait…"  
_Click.

* * *

_

_Ugh._ A pounding headache erupted from my forehead. I never was able to sleep much, but over the past couple of weeks, I'd had extremely weird dreams aplenty. They were different every time: once I was standing outside of a cave and saw a guy in a creepy black uniform with a knife tossed into his forehead. Another time I'd seen nothing, but heard a series of harsh screams drilling into my temples. The night before, I watched a girl I didn't recognize shoving a long knife into a man's chest, gleefully giggling as he coughed up blood before collapsing. Even in my subconscious they barely made sense, so when I was awake, they made about as much sense as eating while upside down.

A comforting purr sounded from the side of my bed. I grinned as I looked down over the sheets at my Persian, Cel. I never did know when she evolved; I was probably on vacation or something when it happened. Either way, her being around certainly helped relieve the headache, both because of comfort and the face that she could help psychically relieve them.

Cel's presence made me wonder for a second. _Where's Sac?_ Normally at that moment, I would be covered in a half a liter of drool, yet the feisty little Poochyena was nowhere to be seen in my room. I shrugged and walked over to the bathroom. I wasn't one to overthink good fortune.

For a while, the day seemed like any other random day. I brushed my teeth, showered, pretty standard stuff. It was when I trudged down the stairs with Cel at my feet, rubbing my eyes and hoping we weren't out of waffles, that everything got weird.

On the plus side, I found Sac down there, and she seemed perfectly safe. On the downside? She was lapping cereal out of a bowl held by some guy I'd never seen before.

The guy-well, guy wasn't really accurate, teenager was more appropriate-the teenager glanced up at me and smiled halfheartedly. His teeth were sharper than any teeth I'd ever seen: they were pretty much short, bone knives. Sac stopped drinking for a second to look up at me, confused, before plunging her face back into the bowl.

Knife-mouth stood up. It was around then when I realized how intimidating he was; well, the teeth _were_ creepy, but the addition of his body made it even worse. He was at least one or two years older than me, and the addition of a decently muscled body, shoulder-length, light brown hair that looked like it was home to a ferret or two, and bloodshot amber eyes did nothing to help reassure me that this guy was not going to shove a knife through me.

His lips began to move; I tensed up, waiting for him to bite me. But the time never came: he simply started talking. "Woah, Sol, what's with that sour look on your face? Are you constipated or are you just happy to see me?"

Normally I would have rolled my eyes at the bad joke; but Mr. Slasher Movie frightened me enough that nothing happened but the widening of my eyes. "Um…my name's Jason, not Sol? I think you've got the wrong person."

His smile faltered for a quick second, then bounced back full force. "Nah, Pharos wouldn't lead me wrong. You remember her, right?"

I wracked my brain for a few seconds, but Brain Google came up with nothing but pyramids, aliens, and that one DreamWorks movie with Moses and the guy from _Jurassic Park_. "Uh…no. Who's Pharos, and who are you?"

"You really don't remember anything?" Mr. Slasher asked. "Ah, well. You'll remember soon enough. As for me…call me Zack. That should be good enough for now. Let's go." With that, walked out the door and immediately whipped out a black PokéGear.

All common sense went against going with him; the sensible parts of my brain screamed curse words at him I didn't even remember learning. Yet there was something about what he said that made me feel I should follow him. Barely acknowledging the movement of my legs, I slowly stepped out the door behind Zack, Cel nudging Sac behind me.

Zack seemed to be in an intense battle of words with someone over the PokéGear. "Yes, Xavier, I'm _sure_ it's him. Pharos wouldn't mislead us like that. Look, would you just send her over with the car? No, I can't just use Dragonite, that's _far _too conspicuous. …Hold on a sec, will ya, X?" Zack's hair set free a termite or two as he turned to look at me. "All set, Sol-sorry, _Jason."_He emphasized the last word as if it was a nickname that didn't fit me that I insisted he called me by.

"Wait, where are we going?" I asked. "My parents'll be looking for me when they get home from work, it's a school day-" Zack's hand abruptly cut me off.

"Relax, dude. You'll see where we're going when we get there. Do you have balls with you for Cel and the Poochyena?" I nodded, unsure how he knew Cel's name. "Good. Pharos would not enjoy cat hair on her seats. Probably'd think it was going to come to life and kill her." He let out a strange, throaty laugh that sounded like a dying Seel. I laughed along, unsure of whether to be frightened or amused.

Zack's gaze suddenly hardened on a nonspecific area out in the road. He reached down the back of his shirt and pulled out a slightly curved sword. _What's going on?_

My question was answered seconds later, as a man in a strange black uniform stalked out from behind a tree and began walking in the general direction of Zack and I. Suddenly, the caldesac seemed to be teeming with black shapes, all of them with the same distinctive, crimson R plastered to their uniforms. As they settled out, I counted twenty individuals who had circled us. I counted in times of stress; it just helped.

Zack put on a half-smile as he examined his surroundings. "Well," he started. "This isn't good."


	3. Chapter 2: Sol

**A/N" Hey-o, Zulu fans! Betcha didn't expect an update of THIS this century! So anyways, I finally got Chappie Tres done, and hopefully it'll live up to your expectations.**

**And by the wizzles, before next chapter the rating shall be elevated to M for future VI! O! LENCE! So remember to either check the M listings or put Zulu on your subscriber list...**

**Adios, fanios!  
**

"…did you see him? He was trying to hit me, I'm completely certain of it!"

"Pharos, he was three lanes away, he was nowhere near hitting you, and certainly wasn't attempting to, as evidenced by his wild beeping at that stupid swerve of yours. You're being paranoid, as always."

"Did you see that angle? If I hadn't done that, he would've hit me, like he was trying to!"

"If you hadn't done that, we would've been perfectly fine, and so would the three drivers who hit each other because of that swerve."

"You're just in denial, Xavier!"

"...Get out of the driver's seat, Pharos. It's my turn."

* * *

_One sword. Twenty black uniforms. One, two, three, four, five fingers on this hand..._

My stress counting gradually slowed as I took the situation in fully. There were twenty people in black uniforms who apparently didn't like either Zack, me, or either of us. Zack apparently saw them as a threat because he had a sword out.

A flash of light interrupted my thoughts. One of the men, a large, lumberjack-like man who was too big for his uniform, had cracked a Poké Ball, and his rhydon was now staring us down. _Well, that's not good._

One by one, the other nineteen men-I noticed they were all men and filed that away in my brain for later thought-released their legion of Pokémon. _Pidgeot. Arbok. Parasect…_ My thoughts trailed off as a glare of red appeared at my side, and within seconds a luxray was glaring down the rhydon.

Zack smiled his shark-bite smile as he faced the militants. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Your choice."

The lumberjack hesitated before pointing his shaking finger at Zack. "Rhydon, smash him!" The rock monster lumbered toward us–well, "lumbered" may be wrong, considering he was moving as fast as a marathon runner.

"Wrong choice." Zack and his luxray didn't even need to talk before the massive electric lion let out a roar and charged towards the rhydon. It bit down on the solid horn of the rhydon–and snapped it in half. As the luxray spat bits of horn out, the rest of the men started to back away slowly.

"Hmm…" Zack mumbled. "Nah, I'll let Pharos do the honors. Luxray, Glare." A flash of electric light appeared in the lightning lion's eyes, and within seconds the entire Black Uniform Brigade had collapsed to the ground and laid there, completely unmoving, their Pokémon Helpimmobile next to them. To be frank, it was rather disturbing.

Zack twirled the sword in his fingers. "And that's how we settle things RSL style. Well, no it isn't, but I feel like saying it anyway." Still showing off a mouthful of knives, he sheathed the sword and turned back to me.

"What the…" I stuttered. Sac barked and wagged her tongue at Zack, as if to say, _I like this crazy man! _Regaining my senses slightly, I blurted out, "What, how, who…what the hell just happened?"

"That, my friend," Zack said, "is the Pharos-is-going-to-go-bloodthirsty-so-I'm-going-leave-these-bodies-for-her tactic. In the long run, it's the preferable option to waking up without half your eyeball."

I screamed, annoyed. "Agh! I need answers, dammit! Who is Pharos? What the hell is up with the Rabid Red Rs? Ad why am I apparently necessary for this whole debacle?"

Zach sighed again. "You'll get your answers once the getaway car makes it here. Andddddd here it is, that's convenient." A silver, beat-up sedan pulled up right in front of us. One look at it would tell you that it had been through a lot of crap in its time of nonlife, and another look would tell you that it was, despite being banged up, still a perfectly normal silver sedan.

The driver's seat door opened, and two people tumbled out in somersaults that would've made a gymnast proud, landing on the ground in a landing that would have gotten a 10 from everyone but the Sinnoh judge. One of them, who a quick observation revealed was most certainly a girl with short black hair, looked around, manic blue eyes twitching, looking from me to Zack to her partner and everywhere else. After a few seconds of scanning, she focused her eyes on Zack-well, she focused them enough to obviously be looking at him. "Are you sure it's him, and not some impostor that wants to hurt me and you and Xavier and kill us all and ohmygod I better just get him now or maybe he'll get me ohgodohgod-" She was cut off by the other somersaulter, a curly-haired boy with a vaguely Oriental skintone, as he clamped his hand down on her mouth.

Rolling his eyes, the boy-I presumed he was the Xavier crazy run-on sentence girl was talking about-turned his head to Zack. "I see you've retrieved Sol, Zacchaeus. Good work."

Zack–_Short for Zacchaeus?_ I thought. _That's pretty funny.–_snorted at his darker-skinned counterpart. "Xav, would it kill you to just _once_ call me Zack? And hey, Pharos. I left some bodies for you."

Xavier opened his mouth to speak, but before he could let a word out the girl–the Pharos I had heard so little about–ripped his hand off her mouth and gave a happy little giggle. "Yesss!"

Zack chuckled a little. "I'll watch her, Xavier. You take Sol back to the car and wait for us." Turning back to Pharos, he added. "Alright, Pharos. I'm guessing you have your knife?" Not waiting for an answer, he walked back towards the bodies, Luxray still at his side.

I turned to Xavier, still completely confused. "Wait. This is a suburban neighborhood in a rather nice area. Wouldn't a girl killing a bunch of unconscious people seem a little, oh, conspicuous?"

Xavier shrugged. "You know, Sol; Zack's zorua can ALWAYS cover them up."

I gave him an ever more confused look. "Zack has a zorua?"

Xavier's expression turned into an incredulous one. "Hm. I guess Con–Damien, dammit!–DAMIEN was right; you have lost your memory of all this."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever; I have a feeling this won't get explained anyway. Let's just go to the car."

Xavier shook his head a little. "Okay, Sol." He marched the two feet to the car and hopped into the driver's seat. A little unnerved, I hopped in the back behind him, Cel and Sac leaping in behind me. Xavier's ear twitched, and he turned back to face me again. "You should probably call your Persian back so Zack can have a seat."

"Right." I pulled a Poke Ball out of my pocket and pressed the button, absorbing Cel in a blob of red light. Reorienting myself with a poochyena on my lap, I asked Xavier, "So what exactly have I forgotten?"

"It's a long story. It all started when–" He was cut off by Pharos barreling into the car, leaping over him and landing in the passenger's seat. Zack came up next, taking his spot right next to me in the back (he had thankfully called back his monstrosity of a luxray). The swordmouth turned to Xavier and grimaced. "Rockets killed, bodies mutilated and turned into shrubs. Let's go, Xavier." The curly-haired boy nodded, and with a quick push of the pedal we were off, driving into the valley of the unknown.

**Credit for Pharos and Xavier goes to Happy2BMe and WereDragonEX, respectively. Credit for Pokemon goes to Nintendo and Game Freak. Credit for curvy swords also called cutlasses goes to pirates. Credit for Ham goes to pigs...**


End file.
